


Week One - Love

by FriendlyCybird



Series: Stanuary 2019 [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: All three other main Pines family members show up and Fiddleford is mentioned, Fluff without Plot, Gen, I just didn't want this little nothing Stan fluff showing up in other character's tags, I'm not sure how to tag it but there's a baby, Literally the fluffiest thing i've ever written, Nightmares, Post-Canon, What little plot there is, Yet somehow I still manage to make a reference to, and he's fairly centric to the plot, in fact there might even be some fiddauthor if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 09:23:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendlyCybird/pseuds/FriendlyCybird
Summary: The most important baby born in the last eighteen years hits a developmental milestone.





	Week One - Love

Santiago Lee Ramirez, otherwise known as Baby Yago, was born July 23, 2018, and Stanley Pines hadn’t been there. He’d planned to be there. He’d planned to be there the first week of August. But no, Baby Yago just HAD to take after his dad and show up early to EVERYTHING. Including life itself. So Stan had still been up in the middle of nowhere, hiking the mountains around Gravity Falls with Ford and the kids. Baby Yago’s official time of birth was 8:27PM, and Stan could even pinpoint exactly what he’d been doing at that time. He’d looked at his watch not five minutes before while Mabel chattered on about class options next year at Southern Oregon University. Ford had been engaged in the conversation, Dipper’s mind had seemed a million miles away, and Stan? Stan had been checking the time to see if it was late enough to turn in without being teased about being old. He’d been worried about being called old when the most important baby born in the last eighteen years came into the world. 

They’d been relegated to McGucket’s Mansion that summer, as the attic bedroom of the Mystery Shack had already been changed into a nursery. Technically, nothing had been keeping Stan and Ford from returning to their former home, just the younger Pines twins. Neither of them had wanted to be underfoot. Abulita had gone full mama bear mode this late in Melody’s pregnancy, and Melody herself was turning out not much better. When they got back from the camping trip though, Stan had braved the angry women to come back and help out. 

Toward the end of September, when Mabel finally left for her second year of college, Stan had asked Ford “So, when were you thinking we’d head out?” 

The look Ford had given him was strangely calculating. As if trying to make some sort of judgement. Finally he said “I’ve heard forecasts of a fairly mild winter coming here to Oregon this year. Which, while good news for the locals, is likely bad news for some snow-dwelling cryptids in the area. I might like to stay through the season to observe.” 

Stan couldn’t keep himself from grinning. Ford had never been a very good liar, but Stan didn’t call him on it. He was too grateful. Instead he just asked “You think McGucket’s gonna let you stick around that long?” 

Ford shrugged. “Probably, but if it becomes an issue I’m sure I can return to my basement study at home.” 

It never became an issue. Ford stayed at McGucket Mansion, and Stan stayed at the Mystery Shack. It was actually good to have the space after the close quarters on the Stan O’War II. They saw each other often enough, and Stan trusted McGucket to make sure Ford ate and slept. Which meant Ford was probably getting more sleep than him for a couple months there, given the newborn Stan was living with. Early on he got up for a share of the nightly feedings and changings and whatnot, and as time passed he and Abulita took turns just taking the baby monitor entirely for a night or two at a time to let Soos and Melody rest. 

By late November, taking the baby monitor for the night was a little less like giving up on getting a full nights sleep and more gambling with one. Stan had arguably “won” a round with baby Yago’s sleep habits the night before Thanksgiving, when it was well past six in the morning when the little speaker starting blaring the familiar cries that had Stan out of bed and out the door in under a minute. Arguably, because Stan himself had been awake until nearly three. 

December 12, 2018 saw Stan offering over dinner for the fourth time that month “I can take care of Yago if he wakes up tonight.” and for only the second time that month, Melody agreed. A handful of hours later, Stan was halfway up the stairs to the attic when he realized he hadn’t even checked the time before he bolted out of his room when the baby monitor kicked on. Maybe it was just the bad dream baby Yago’s cries had pulled him from talking, but Stan would swear there was something urgent sounding in the four and a half month olds voice. 

Turns out, there might have been. The little athlete had managed to roll himself most of the way over and gotten wedged at a weird diagonal against the bars of his crib. Stan reached in carefully and managed to dislodge baby Yago and pick him up. He rested the baby against his chest and held him close for a second, bouncing his arms just slightly in what had become a reflexive gesture to help calm him. Then he turned and walked the few steps to the rocking chair by the foot of the crib. If Yago didn’t settle in a minute or two of rocking, Stan would take him downstairs for a bottle. Normally that’d be his first move, but Soos had told him repeatedly to stop reaching to feed the kid every time he was the tiniest bit distressed so Stan was trying to listen. 

Stan hummed a little, making quiet sounds that almost passed as musical and mumbling things about “Rocking baby Yago, ‘cause he woke up after I took the baby monitor like a dumb-dumb.” Sure enough, after less than a minute Yago settled and Stan said “There. That’s better. Now maybe you’ll learn somethin’ and save rolling over in your sleep for when you’re older, huh?” The rolling forward-and-back of the rocking chair was also comforting to Stan, even more than half a year since his last time on the ocean. It wasn’t exactly the same at all, but it was a change from solid ground, and Stan always felt at peace sitting up here. Of course, that probably had just as much to do with who he was sitting up here with as with some dumb rocking chair. “Think you’re gonna get back to sleep soon?” Stan asked the baby, not expecting an answer. It’d be hilarious if the kid promptly fell asleep though. That had actually happened once. 

This time, Yago did the opposite. His little hand pressed as hard as a baby could press on anything against Stan’s chest, and the little guy actually pushed up and lifted his little head right off of Stan’s shoulder, then looked Stan square in the eye. Stan blinked. Yago was still looking at him, big brown eyes wide open and alert. “Huh.” Stan said. “You uh...you couldn’t’ve waited ‘til morning for this?” Yago wiggled a little, but kept his head in the air. “Seriously, kid, your ma’s gonna kill me if she finds out she missed you lifting your head for the first time.” 

As if concerned by the threat, Yago dropped. The side of his little face plopped against Stan’s shoulder. “There ya go.” Stan said. Then “...I’m still gonna have to tell your parents, huh? Can’t keep major milestones a secret.” He rocked the baby a little bit more, then, observed “I mean I could.” Before he could get into the ethical dilemma of lying to family to make them happy, something he probably shouldn’t be talking about with an infant, he felt a little tug at the side of his neck opposite from where Yago was. 

By the time Stan remembered he’d been too wiped from the day in general to take off the thick gold chain Dipper had sent him for Hanukkah this year before going to bed, Yago already had his little fist around it and was drawing it into his mouth. Stan eyed him for a moment, and concluded that the chain was big enough, and attached enough, that it wasn’t a choking hazard. “Ya like that, huh?” he said. “Well, somebody in your family’s gotta have a sense of style. May as well be you, right?” Stan chuckled and shifted the baby against his chest, adjusting him slightly before dropping his own head against the back of the rocking chair with a sigh. 

Yago gummed contentedly at the chain for a few minutes more before his eyes began drooping. “That’s it.” Stan encouraged. “Get some more sleep, kiddo. We both need it.” Only another few moments later, Yago seemed to have listened to him. The babys eyes were completely closed and he’d stopped actively gumming. So now Stan faced the challenge of getting his chain out of baby Yago’s mouth without waking him. This would be fun. 

Sure enough, Yago stirred on his first effort and fussed a little. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay…” Stan attempted to soothe, shifting the baby slightly and gently patting him on the back. Yago was asleep again shortly, so Stan stood and put him back in the crib. Then he started back to his own room. 

If he stayed in the doorway just watching baby Yago a whole lot longer than necessary, no one had to know.


End file.
